


Defiance and Progress [FANART] Took Your Pain

by Loup_Aigre



Series: Defiance and Progress [FANART] [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beginnings of relationship, Fanart, M/M, Master Derek Hale, Panic Attacks, Slave Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Pain-Relief Magic, drawing is fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:39:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loup_Aigre/pseuds/Loup_Aigre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Panic attacks are a foreign concept to Derek, watching Stiles suddenly gasping for air Derek does the only thing he can think of. </p><p>This work is part of a series done for the fabulous fic by Rosepetals42 "Defiance and Progress". Though it is not necessary to have read the fic to view the art. </p><p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defiance and Progress [FANART] Took Your Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosepetals42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetals42/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Defiance and Progress](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440541) by [rosepetals42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetals42/pseuds/rosepetals42). 



 

> Derek stared in horror as Stiles looked at him for one last moment, blinked, and then  _broke_.
> 
>             He suddenly was gasping, choking for air, eyes screwed shut, tears running down his face, stinking of pure, unadulterated  _panic_  and for a moment all Derek could do was stand and gape.
> 
>             “Stiles!” He said, waving his hands uselessly. He didn’t want to touch, knew that he was supposed to keep his distance, but-
> 
>             But Stiles seemed to be on the verge of collapsing, stumbling a step backwards and somehow his breathing had gotten  _faster_  and Derek didn’t have time to worry about boundaries.
> 
>             He grabbed Stiles by the shoulders and pushed him back until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, and then stepped back. Stiles leaned over, holding his head in his hands, fingers tangled in his hair.
> 
>              _Oh shit,_  Derek thought.  _Oh shit._
> 
>             He had no idea what to do. No idea at all.
> 
>             His breathing was all wrong. He couldn’t be getting enough air. Maybe he had asthma too? Maybe he needed an inhaler?
> 
>             “Stiles!” he tried again. “What’s wrong? Do you need an inhaler? Should I get Scott?”
> 
>             Scott was definitely going to punch him again.
> 
>             Why was he always the worst at everything? He couldn’t even tell Stiles he was safe in a way that didn’t somehow cause raw terror!
> 
>             “No!” Stiles gasped hoarsely. “No Scott. Not- inhaler.”
> 
>             “Okay,” Derek said, trying to keep his voice even. He glanced around his room, though he didn’t know what he was looking for. “What’s wrong? What do you need?”
> 
>             “Nothing,” Stiles gasped. His eyes were still firmly closed as he shook his head side to side. “Just- panic. Attack.”
> 
> Panic attack? Derek didn’t know what that was. But he knew he had to do something. Stiles was still breathing too fast and too shallowly. He was going to pass out at this rate.
> 
>             “Stiles!” he said, trying to make himself sound like an authority. “You need to calm down. Just… relax.”
> 
>             For a moment, Stiles looked up and shot him such a glare that Derek almost smiled. It was just raw Stiles. Then he saw Stiles’ eye roll back into his head and realized that if he didn’t do something soon, Stiles was going to faint.
> 
>             “Stiles!” he said, coming around to grab Stiles’ shoulders again. Then, hating himself, he moved to grab where he knew there were open cuts.
> 
>             Stiles sucked in a breath of pain and Derek grimaced but grabbed harder, watching as Stiles inhaled wordlessly.
> 
>             After a beat, longer than he would have liked, longer than he wanted, Derek slid his hand to the side of Stiles’ neck, focused, and  _pulled_.
> 
>             Usually taking someone’s pain was a gradual thing, you let it slide into you slowly until it had faded to nothing or you couldn’t take any more. Derek wasn’t entirely sure there was another way to do it.
> 
>             But he went on instinct, willing himself to yank all the pain out of Stiles in one short moment.
> 
>             The burst of agony that broke over him took him to his knees in front of Stiles let him know it probably worked. Stiles collapsing bonelessly against him told him it definitely did.
> 
>             For a moment they stayed there, Derek kneeling before Stiles, hand stills cradling the slave’s neck, Stiles slumped forward onto Derek’s shoulder. Both were breathing hard now, Derek riding the wave of pain that he knew would stop momentarily, Stiles’ breathes gradually slowing to a normal rate.
> 
>             “Wha’ didyou jus’ do?” Stiles slurred, sounding like he’d just been hit hard in the head. He was relaxed now, Derek could feel, but it wasn’t entirely natural. Derek should move. He would, he told himself. Soon. In just a second. Stiles’ scent was calmer now, confused without being panicked. It was nice.
> 
>             “Took your pain,” he replied, voice tight. “Thought it might help with the whole-” His left hand, the one not curled around Stiles fluttered in the air for a moment. “Panic attack.”
> 
>  

 

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**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. If you'd like to see more give me a holler, I'm up for suggestions.
> 
> And thanks again Rosepetals42 for letting me experiment with your fic. I'm having a blast and you are truly a talented writer. *hugs*


End file.
